


Trade-Off

by the-reylo-void (Anysia)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Ben has Big Messy Feelings, Ben is also a jackass, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/pseuds/the-reylo-void
Summary: The last craft beer in a sixer. Two stubborn idiots with big, messy feelings they can't spit out and way too much sexual tension. This was probably inevitable.





	Trade-Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoupDeFoudRey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoupDeFoudRey/gifts).



> Prompt fill for my bae CoupDeFoudRey (coupdefoudreylo on Tumblr) who requested the following: "We both grabbed for the last bottle of the good beer and I’m not saying we’re going to fight for it but we are.” + Rey ends up trying to seduce Kylo into giving it up, but she gets so into the attempt that he ends up taking it from her while she’s distracted. 
> 
> The result is off-the-cuff modern AU PWP by someone who is not particularly good at smut. Please enjoy regardless. ♥

“That’s your third, right? You should probably call it quits. It’s a school night.”

Rey rolls her eyes and slugs back a long draught from the cold longneck in her hand. “And _you_ had two whiskey neats before your second beer and probably have a hostile takeover of some little start-up well before report time, don’t you. Mind your business.”

Ben ( _Kylo_ , she thinks, but it’s so hard to call him that with a straight face when he’s in jeans and a faded T-shirt on the broken-down sofa in her studio apartment instead of in a boardroom with tailored shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, flashing the watch she knows costs more than a year’s rent) smirks at her and edges closer, one hand trailing along her bare calf while the other angles for the last bottle in the sixer he’d brought from the hipster bottle bar uptown. “You  _are_ my business,” he purrs against her ear as he drags her across his lap, nipping at the lobe as she squirms half-heartedly in his embrace. “Best acquisition I ever made.”

Rey scoffs. “Yes, the most imaginary as well.”

Ben hugs her tighter, and she lets him cradle her close even as she sighs in irritation. He’s like a sad-eyed puppy, this one, always tugging at her heartstrings. He’s the enemy, for all intents and purposes, lead financier and CEO of the private education company encroaching on her district (“healthy competition,” their CFO, a shrewd-faced ginger, had said during an ill-fated reconciliation meeting), but damn if he hasn’t wormed his way into her heart just the same.

She still remembers the day he and his…  _colleagues_ had shown up at the high school where she taught. He’d been tall and imposing in tailored black Armani and buffed Louboutins, casting a disparaging look down the hallway. She was grease-smudged and in faded jeans, nearly running into him outside her shop classroom.

“Don’t these places usually have rules about running in the halls?” he’d asked her, staring down at her in open disdain.

She’d glanced at the monogram on his signet ring as he sipped at the latte in his hand. “Kylo Ren,” she said, unimpressed. “You’re here for the board meeting. For the recommendation.”

“To cement our purchase, yes.”

Rey had narrowed her eyes. “It’s not a done deal yet. You underestimate Superintendent Organa’s resolve.”

Kylo had laughed humorlessly. “I do not. Believe me. What’s your name?”

“Rey. Shop.”

“…Rey Shop?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I  _teach_ shop.” She bristled at Kylo’s curious head tilt. “And don’t you dare start with that ‘you’re a girl’ business…”

“No, I was going to ask if you knew anything about Ferraris.”

“In my dreams, perhaps, yes.”

“Hm.” His eyes scanned her face, lingering on the smudge of grease along her cheekbone, and she shifted uncomfortably as his eyes traveled the length of her body. “I have one, you know.”

“One…”

“A Ferrari. F12B. I can show you.”

Rey leveled him with an utterly dispassionate stare. “I’d rather stick my hand in a brake lathe. But thank you just the same.”

He’d met her gaze over the edge of his coffee, a smirk tilting at the corners of his lips.

Rey had pretended it was an accident as she ducked past him, one elbow coming up just high enough to send his coffee spilling across his shirt.

She hadn’t bothered to pretend not to smile at his indignant shout.

Nor had she later that evening as he fumed silently when the board unanimously rejected his firm’s offer.

Rey had never expected to see him again after that.

Until a week later, when she found herself at an unfamiliar upscale bar uptown, staring at the bottom of a gin and tonic and surreptitiously checking her phone for the fiftieth time within the hour.

“Got stood up, I see.”

She’d glanced up in confusion, eyes narrowing as Kylo Ren sat down next to her at the bar. He glanced down at her drink and signaled the bartender for another. “…I didn’t,” she’d said, half-turning away from him. “I just… he probably rescheduled and…”

“Yeah, and the girl who was supposed to meet me here two hours ago is probably lost. Living three whole blocks away and all.”

“Oh, that Ferrari line didn’t work on her, either?” Rey finished her drink and shot him a half-smile at the edge of her highball.

Her eyes widened a bit as Kylo gave her a hint of a smile in return. “As much as it pains me to admit it… you were quite impressive that night,” he said. “First time a deal’s ever fallen through on my watch. You weren’t eloquent, or really making a strong argument… or even particularly well-composed…”

“Charming.”

“But it resonated.” He slid a twenty onto the bar counter from a neat billfold as the bartender slid a drink to him. “You connected with them. The board. The parents.”

There was something almost soft to the way he looked at her, so sharply at odds with the cold wolf-stare he’d leveled at her there in the school hallways, and Rey tipped her cheek against her empty glass. “And you?” she asked, the words falling from her lips before they even fully registered in her mind.

Kylo considered for a moment, then reached to take the empty glass from her, sliding the freshly-poured one over to her. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “And me.”

After that, and much to Rey’s surprise (and occasional consternation), they became semi-regular drinking buddies, frequenting the same quiet bar, getting to know each other through their alcohol. He liked dark liquor and obscure ales, while Rey preferred crisp IPAs.

He had his MBA, of course. Wharton. Rey had worked three jobs for her MSEd.

He’d taken over his education company after the founder had attempted to undermine him and turn the shareholders against him. They were a direct competitor to the public system but secretly provided funding for low-income tutoring programs and community initiatives.

She found out his name was Ben, and his ears turned red the first time she called him by it.

He liked dogs.

He liked old movies from the 40s and soft guitar music.

And, she learned six months in, two months earlier, when she’d forgotten her umbrella and he’d loaned her his, the expensive one from Italy with the weird handle that he kept jealously close, and walked her home and kissed her under the awning of her building, he liked  _her._

They’ve been together ever since.

Well…

Sort of.

“One of these days you’ll let me actually date you,” he murmurs against her temple, holding her close, and she sighs, huffs an irritated breath against his sternum.

“We’ve been over this,” Rey grumbles. “I don’t date. But if I  _did_ …”

“…you’d want to date me,” Ben finishes. “I know. And I’ll take that.”  

Rey frowns, absently picking at a stray thread on his shirt. He’s so fucking  _earnest_ , and it’s hard to reconcile sometimes with the shrewd, cold-eyed businessman she knows exists outside the confines of her apartment (and with the surprisingly kinky man who fucked her senseless more often than not, including one very memorable evening in the backseat of his beloved Ferrari, but that was another story).

Rey groans in the back of her throat, moving away from him and setting her emptied beer on the scuffed coffee table. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thinks, reaching for the six-pack, if she just tried to…

Her hand stills as she views the empty carton, and she turns slowly to see Ben slotting the bottle opener against the cap of the last craft beer from the pack.

“Hey!” she yells, reaching to take it from his hand and frowning as he pulls back. “Who said you could take the last one?”

“What are you talking about? I  _bought_ them. Besides, you have Yuengling in the fridge. I saw it earlier.”

“You’re going to make me drink Yuengling while you get Fat Tire?” Rey grapples with him, scowling at the mischievous gleam in Ben’s eye as he evades her grasp. “Selfish prick.”

“Not your fault you weren’t paying att—hey!” Ben frowns as Rey’s hand comes around his on the bottle in an iron grip. “Let go.”

Rey’s face scrunches up indignantly, keeping her hand closed around his and pulling the bottle towards herself. “ _No._ ”

“Rey. Give me the beer.”

“No!”

They end up in a brief tug of war, Ben attempting to pry off her fingers, Rey wriggling away from him, until she ends up splayed across his lap, legs braced on either side of his thighs, her core pressed flush against what she recognizes as a slowly-growing erection against the seam of his jeans.

She stares down at him, the rising flush across his cheeks, and slowly rolls her hips against him with a devious smile.

“I can be  _nice_ about it, too,” she says, grinning at him and attempting to slip her fingers beneath his around the neck of the bottle even as he holds firm. “I can be really, really nice. If you let go.”

Ben groans, sliding his free hand beneath the hem of her T-shirt to cup her bare breast and glaring as Rey quickly pushes him away. “Ah, no. You weren’t sharing before. You don’t get to share now.”

“Let me up and I can share any way you want me to,” he growls, and Rey closes her eyes for half a heartbeat, feels the way that growl always seems to shoot straight down to her clit, every time. “ _Rey_.”

She lets his hand curve around her hip, lets him awkwardly fumble with the button and zipper on his jeans, lets him push aside her panties and angle the fat head of his cock up just inside her and…

He curses loudly as she braces herself above him, holding herself steady even as the hand at her hip clutches and tries to make her move. “Hmm,” she hums, trails her fingertips down the front of his shirt. “I guess  _I_ get to be selfish now…”

“You  _fucking_ cocktease,” Ben pants beneath her, and she can feel his muscles twitching beneath her, his cock twitching impatiently as she lets him in, just an inch, just shallow enough to feel the wet heat of her cunt just beyond his reach. “If you think I’m not fucking your ass until you  _scream_  tomorrow night…”

“That’s a school night too _,_ you know,” she says, biting her lip and grinning as she rolls her hips in a smooth, easy motion that has him crying out and hitting his head against the back of the sofa.

Rey lets out a short squeak of surprise as Ben suddenly surges forward, free hand taking her chin in a tight grip and kissing her senseless even as he slams her back against the coffee table, fucking into her so hard she sees stars. She’s not sure if it’s Ben or Kylo inside her right now, and she clutches at the edge of the coffee table with a white-knuckled grip as he drives his cock into her with hard, deep thrusts that make her teeth rattle.

“…you drive me crazy, you know that?” she hears Ben pant from above her, and he’s sucking bruises into her pale skin, against her throat, her shoulder, slipping his hand beneath her, against the small of her back and curving her up to meet every thrust. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

“You love me,” Rey gasps, manages to slot her fingertips just beneath the edge of her panties and rub her clit in hard, desperate strokes.

“You know I do,” Ben says between clenched teeth. “God, Rey, you know I fucking do.”

She braces her elbow against the coffee table, surges up to kiss him sloppily, all tongue and teeth as she comes against her fingers with a gasp, holding him deep inside. “I love you too,” she manages, breathless, kissing his jaw, his neck as she feels him thrust as deeply as he can, feels the shiver down his spine, feels him come inside her with a desperate, filthy groan. “I love you, Ben. I do.”

She’s fairly certain she has rugburn on her thighs from his jeans, and he’s drenched with sweat (and  _she’s_ unpleasantly damp with his cum seeping out of her as he pulls out and God she’s going to have to bleach the coffee table now), but he looks so damn  _happy_ as he rests his sweaty forehead against hers and kisses her, murmuring that  _that was cheap, you better have fucking meant it or I’ll…_

“…I meant it,” Rey says quietly, allowing him to pull her back against the couch, into his arms. “If… I wanted to love someone, I think I’d love you. And I do. So.”

She lets him draw her into a soft kiss, feels a pleasantly warm flush down to her toes that she’s pretty sure isn’t solely attributable to afterglow. “God, you’re so sweaty.”

“I mean, I did all the work, after all.” Ben kisses her temple, and Rey frowns in irritation as she’s jostled, as his arms temporarily leave her. “Not that I’m not willing to, of course. From time to time.”

The familiar sound of a bottle cap popping.

The sound of a long swallow.

“When the payoff is this good.”

Rey slowly rises up, palms flat against Ben’s chest, pushing aside the beer bottle he’s raised to his lips.

The bastard  _smiles_ at her.

“My first official act as your girlfriend,” she says in a dark voice, “is to kill you.”


End file.
